Mafia Melodies
by McGinnis INC
Summary: Because we all know that Mello would have shaken the baby. A collection of MelloxOC One-shots.
1. Hypothetically Speaking

**Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognize.**

**A/N: Random bit of craziness I wrote eons ago… Actually, this was written before "There Were Two in the Bed"… It was part of the expansion of that story I was planning before I got obsessed with Assassin's Creed. This might become multichaptered. I'm not entirely certain. Summer is so close, anything can happen.**

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><p>Hypothetically Speaking<p>

By: Ginny

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><p>Mello was frustrated.<p>

Mello was angry.

Mello might honestly shoot someone if given a chance.

Stalking down the hallway, the various members of the mafia and their current whores all quickly side-stepped, pressing their bodies against the walls for fear of getting in his way… They knew halting Mello in this kind of mood would further agitate him and probably result in their heads being blasted off. Cutting a close corner, Mello turned and came face to face with one of the whores who fed off the money the mafia members provided.

Sleazy white-blond hair that had been fried harshly, thick mascara and liquid eyeliner. Stereotypical. He thought her name might have been Paula, or Kitty or something stupid like that. Her mouth gaped open, forming a bright red 'O' as she stared up at Mello's scrunched up face. His hand twitched towards his gun and she followed his movements. Gulping audibly, she backed away and pressed herself against the wall.

"Sorry, Mello," she murmured, head bowed.

Letting out a guttural growl, Mello clenched his fists and continued his rampage towards his bedroom.

God, all he wanted to do was hop into bed and pound into his girl – and then pass the fuck out.

Three of his best men had been arrested just that afternoon for drug trafficking. He had warned Rod again and again that they should cut back on those kinds of petty crimes. It was far too easy to catch someone with a load of cocaine on them. Yeah, it made money, but their arms dealings made a lot more profit and weren't as difficult to get away with. But of course, Rod preferred to make as much money as possible so these kinds of dealings continued on. And now they had lost three good men. God fucking damn it! If he couldn't keep his men from getting arrested, how could he ever defeat Kira?

Just thinking about it made him tense all over again and he gladly caught sight of his bedroom door. Heaven in lingerie was awaiting him. Yanking the door open, he was already in the process of unzipping his vest. By the time he had slammed the door shut, the vest was on the floor and his hand was on the zipper of his leather pants.

He mentally thanked Jesus Christ that he had chosen the zippered pants and not laced pants.

Stumbling out of them, he smirked at the figure curled in the bed, hidden under the cheetah-print covers. That is, his smirk remained in place until he saw the melting, half-eaten carton of chocolate ice cream slowly wilting on the bedside table.

Stopping short right at the foot of the bed, Mello folded his arms across his naked chest, "So… how long is this going to continue?"

Daisy stuck her head out of the cocoon of blankets, wincing at the harsh florescent light. Apparently she still had a headache. "I don't know," she groaned. "It's never been this bad before."

Her brown hair was matted and sticking up at odd angles, bags had formed under her eyes even though she had spent most of the day in bed and the sensitive skin on her face had caused lines of pain to weave their way around her mouth and on the corners of her eyes. She also wasn't wearing any make up which was a little shocking for Mello to see. Like most of the whores in the compound, she wore a crap-ton of make up, especially her signature ruby red lipstick. Without it, she looked pale and wilted. All of this pointed to one conclusion:

Mello wouldn't be getting any for a good few days.

God damnit.

So, instead of hopping into bed as naked at the day he was born, he stalked to his dresser and slid on black silk pajama pants. Only then did he sit on the edge of his bed, finishing the last of his chocolate bar he had started that morning. An awkward silence descended on the two… it was a well-known fact that if they weren't going at each other like horny bunnies, they really had nothing in common and nothing to talk about. So instead, Daisy rambled.

"It feels like there's a small man in my stomach who is slowly trying to carve his way out with a dull butter knife." Groaning, she rolled over and curled together even tighter.

Wiping his chocolate-stained lips with the back of his hand, Mello glanced down at his girl. He always got an uncomfortable feeling in his chest area when he saw her face cringing like that.

"I thought those pills you're on were supposed to help with," he waggled a single finger in a small circle over her torso, "this."

"Well, I actually blame those damn pills. When I was on that other birth control, it wasn't this painful." Her teeth dug into her unpainted bottom lip as she gave another deep grimace. "Yeah, these ones make the whole process shorter, but God damn – they make the pain so much worse."

Reaching over, he pulled a book from the drawer of his bedside table. It was a worn copy of Crime and Punishment, dog-eared affectionately over the years and the perfect distraction for Daisy's complaining. Mello leaned back against the bed on his side and crossed his legs, lifting the book to eyelevel and opening it to his favorite part: where Petrovitch tells Raskolnikov that it would be better to give himself up now. Seeing what he had done, Daisy rolled over gingerly to place her head on his shoulder and stare at the book. She couldn't read it, since she couldn't understand Russian, but she had once told Mello that she just liked looking at the symbols.

They existed like that for a while, Mello reading his book and Daisy letting her eyes slide over each foreign symbol as her fingers lightly traced their way up and down Mello's chest before circling his nipples and then finding their way back down to lightly caress the sparse hairs near the waistband of his pajama pants. Maybe if the Midol kicked in before they turned in for the night Daisy could use alternative methods to pleasure Mello since he was being so gentle with her.

Then a few moments later a groan managed to leak from Daisy's mouth and she rolled back into a ball. Almost absently, Mello reached down to stroke her hair off her forehead in some attempt at being comforting. For the most part, his focus remained on his book. When Daisy let out another moan, Mello thought, _Jesus Christ, it's like she's doing this on purpose…_

Sighing, Mello retracted his hand, "You want some Midol or something?"

"I already took some," came the muffled answer.

Snapping his book closed, Mello snapped, "You know, this is getting pretty damn ridiculous."

Daisy twisted to glare up at her fuck buddy, "Are you kidding me?" She pushed herself up. "This past year I have been hopping from one birth control to another because _you_ didn't want to use a condom – said you couldn't _feel_ anything."

"Condoms are also less effective in preventing you from getting knocked up," Mello growled, insulted that his manhood had been called into question. No man wants his woman to insinuate that he has anything close to erectile dysfunction.

She snorted, dropping back onto her side – and then instantly regretting it as the pain radiated to her toes. "Yeah, I guess you getting to empty your load directly into me is a side benefit to me not being stuck with a kid to raise."

"A kid _you _would get stuck with?" Mello asked softly, barely above a whisper.

Daisy didn't seem to get the hint. She should of, she had known this volatile man for so long that she should of known that he was slowly boiling over and that it was time to tread lightly. But she hadn't heard about the three men being arrested. She hadn't realized that he was already ticked off and nothing would stop him now.

"Well yeah," she sighed wistfully. "You're off on your mafia-Kira kick and I doubt you'd take a break to change diapers."

It seemed that right after that came out of her mouth, she fully realized what exactly she had said. Her eyes flew open and she stared up at Mello, wide-eyed. "I didn't mean to imply-"

The blond, to his credit was trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. He failed, majorly. Snarling, he pushed himself up and off the bed to stalk to the door, before spinning and stalking back to the bed.

"I know what you meant to imply!" Mello kicked the bedpost, "Fucking bitch!"

Almost as though she was feeding off his own anger, she scoffed and sat back up, "Oh please – like you would honestly be so enthusiastic to change diapers and deal with a squealing baby! Don't act all insulted just because what I'm saying is true!"

"You have no idea what I would or would not be enthusiastic about!"

"I know you would probably dump me and the baby somewhere you would call "safe" just so that we would be far away and you wouldn't have to deal with us!"

Bending over, Mello placed his hands spread apart on the bedspread so that he could be nose to nose with Daisy, "Then you underestimate me, you little whore," he snarled. Little droplets of spit speckled her face.

A moment passed as they stared at each other. Daisy knew that his temper could make him snap at any second and that she might be two steps away from getting shot through the head. Pale and gaping, Daisy let a shiver pass down her spine and slowly a triumphant smirk slid across Mello's face. He had won. Pulling back, Mello stood up straight and began to cross the room.

And suddenly Daisy felt ashamed… ashamed that she would dare to back down. An angry flush spread across her cheeks and she reached for that chocolate ice cream carton and flung it at Mello's bare back.

The carton hit home, right at the nape of his neck, splattering him with the brown liquid that slowly dripped down the plains of his back.

Mello stood, tense like a coil for a few moments.

_The calm before the storm, _Daisy thought, slinking towards the backboard and wincing at the pain in her stomach. She didn't regret it, though. She just knew that the consequences would be unpleasant.

His fists clenched suddenly and he twisted around. A loud snarl echoed out into the room as he retraced his steps back to the bed and pounced. Mello grasped her upper arms and smashed her against the bed, his perfect blond hair in disarray. Daisy let out a belated scream, her hands coming up to try to protect herself. Somewhere in the back of her head she was scolding herself. Yes, she was Mello's favorite, Mello's chosen whore, Mello's girl. And for the most part that protected her from the other men and the other whores. That did not protect her from Mello himself.

"_Don't you ever pull that kind of shit again!_" he roared.

Knowing she should nod and just accept her punishment, but suddenly enflamed, Daisy instead shot back, "Then don't pretend to care a damn about me!"

Mello lifted her slightly, only to slam her right back down. Daisy thanked any deities above that she was on the bed and she would hopefully only end up with some nasty bruises on her upper arms and some whiplash.

"If you managed to fuck up-"

Daisy interrupted, "You mean if you fucked me up-"

He shook her again. "If you managed to fuck up," he repeated, "and forgot to taken your pill then I would fix your mistake!"

Almost on reaction, her knee slid up and hit home right where she knew she could hurt him the most.

What did he expect after he hit her where he knew it would hurt her the most? Her mistake? _Her_ mistake? Did he not remember that she had been adopted? That she had been someone's _mistake_? That that someone had decided to _fix _that _mistake_ by throwing her away and hoping she would survive? That the only reason she had been able to survive was because of the benevolence of the cop who found her, still swaddled and crying for her mother's milk?

That asshole.

Mello grunted, his face dissolving into a mask of pain. Then he collapsed, crushing her underneath him before he rolled off. As Daisy climbed off the bed, gingerly fingering her sore upper arms, she noted that Mello kind of resembled what she had looked like just a few minutes ago – curled up, throbbing in pain. Granted, the melted chocolate down his back was certainly new. Vengeance truly was sweet.

"That baby would not be a mistake!" she replied, wrapping her arms around herself. "That baby would be a blessing in this twisted up world! And I would have no problem taking absolute custody and care of it because if you were allowed near it, it would probably die of shaken baby syndrome! So don't worry, Mello, your baby and I would be fine!"

With that, she stomped out of the room, leaving Mello writhing on the bed.

The aforementioned blond stayed in that position for a few more minutes. Finally, he stumbled off the bed. Using the walls to hold himself up, Mello tried to follow her. He made it to the door and stopped. _Why the fuck should I care about that bitch?_ he asked himself, retreating back to the bed. _Tomorrow I'll get rid of all her stuff and I'll never have to deal with her and her stupid assumptions regarding our kid again… _

"Stupid bitch," he muttered, as he headed to the bathroom to take a shower and get that fucking chocolate off his back. It was useless if he couldn't eat it.

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><p>The next morning Mello woke up suddenly. He had rolled over, cold, and had reached for Daisy. Both of them disliked sleeping when it was too hot, so the AC was almost always on and they hid under thick blankets. Sometimes that wasn't enough, however, and they would inevitably search for warmth and find it in the other. So when his groping hand couldn't find the warm flesh of his whore, he sprung up – his eyes slipping around the room. For a terrible moment he thought something had happened to her – another man had kidnapped her, she had run away.<p>

Then he remembered.

Snarling, he pushed the bedcovers back and stalked to his closet. Hadn't he decided that he would stop worrying about whatever the fuck happened to that stupid bitch? God fucking bless it, yeah he had decided that and then suddenly he still gave a damn. He shouldn't. He was fucking pathetic.

God, he was fucking pissed.

Deciding a drink could maybe clear his head – even though he almost never drank – he was entering the kitchen area, chocolate bar in hand, when he ran into an unfortunate sight: Daisy sitting on the counter, legs spread and head thrown back as Calvin suckled gently on her neck, fondling her breasts at the same time.

Fire slid down his spine, to his fingertips.

Stupid fucking bitch.

Honestly? She lectures him about not taking responsibility for their kid and then she goes, kicks him in the balls and then runs off to an ex-lover's bed?

Before Mello had chosen her, she had been Calvin's whore as she was slowly working her way up the ranks. With Mello came a huge promotion. And now she had gone back to the low-life. And a low-life he was. Calvin was one of the uglier members of the mafia and not all that intelligent. He was somewhere in his early forties and had already lost most of his hair. He had a bit of a potbelly but at least he managed to keep himself rather clean so he wasn't too repulsive… unlike Albert who couldn't bother to take a shower more than twice a month.

Ha, at least it wasn't Albert.

The two were so enthralled with each other that they didn't even notice there was another person in the room until the _click_ of the safety on Mello's gun rang through the room.

Blinking wearily, Daisy glared down at Mello and pouted. Calvin tensed and stared down the barrel of the gun between his eyes.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, dude! She said you two were done!"

"Don't be overdramatic, Mello," Daisy said.

"Overdramatic?" His gun bounced up and down as he clenched his fist. "Overdramatic is when you knee me in the groin because I called our kid a mistake!"

"Our baby is not a mistake! Our baby is a blessing!"

"You told me I would kill our child!"

"You have a terrible, violent temper, you asshole!"

Mello switched his target, aiming for Daisy instead. She had the decency to flinch.

"See what I'm saying?" she asked, "Like hell any mother would let her baby anywhere near you!"

"Fine – I'm a terrible person. You knew that when you started fucking me. And we all know that when stupid bitches are in charge of remembering to take a pill everyday, they eventually fuck up and forget and then they get pregnant. Moral of the story is: don't fuck with men you don't want to father your child!"

"Or just make sure to fuck a man who won't take any responsibility for the kid so that it stays safe! That was my plan!"

"You can't take my child away from me!"

"I will if you don't learn to control your temper! I can fight back – a baby can't, you asshole!"

"A baby won't throw a carton of ice cream at me when I discipline it!"

"No, a baby will throw up on you and shit it's diaper and cry in the middle of the night and be a big fucking distraction and heaven forbid I even try to suck you off when you're following a lead on the Kira case – you pushed me so hard last time I almost sprained my wrist. What are you going to do with a bawling, whining baby, huh?"

Mello lowered the gun. "Don't underestimate me!" he roared again.

This time Daisy didn't stay quiet, she didn't throw anything. Instead she roared back, "Don't call our baby a mistake!"

It seemed both of them realized the argument had come full circle and both of them had gotten everything out that they had wanted to. They were breathing hard, sweat dripping down Mello's long blond hair and Daisy's full chest heaving against her little tank top. Belatedly, Mello realized she was still wearing what she had been the following day: a pair of Mello's boxers and a thin tank top. Why the hell would he let her walk around in that jail-bait outfit?

Silence descended on the group as the two glared at each other.

"Whoa!" Calvin, still positioned between her legs, glanced up at Daisy, "You're pregnant? I thought you had your period?"

Daisy glanced down at him, quizzically. Then she turned to Mello, catching his gaze and returning his glare. The blond clicked his gun back into the holster and growled, "It was a hypothetical situation."

Calvin blinked, his beady eyes confused, "You two were beatin' each other up over a pretend kid?"

The silence that followed was thick – not with animosity like before, but with guilt and shame. Mello and Daisy avoided each other's eyes and all Calvin could do was to glance between the two in hopes that one of them would do something. As it was, he was feeling like he was caught between a fucking forest fire and an erupting volcano. Quite frankly, he had heard rumors about this couple's typical disputes but had never actually thought they could burn up everything in their path like they seemed to be able to.

Finally Mello muttered, "It's the principle of the thing."

Calvin raised an eyebrow and apparently Mello found that offensive because he glared at the older man. Noting that he was still between his girl's legs, Mello grabbed his upper arm roughly and yanked him back. Daisy closed her legs, crossing them with a _hmph._

"Get out of here and stay away from my girl," Mello snarled, tossing him out of the kitchen.

When he turned back, Daisy was slipping off the counter – wincing with the movement. A shock shot through Mello… he hated that face she made when she was in pain. Even when he was fucking pissed at her, he still gave a fuck. Damn it. That just really pissed him off. He was so fucking pathetic.

It was so fucking pathetic of him to cross the room and place a hand on the small of her back – even when she flinched a little bit, thinking that he was going to hit her – and guide her out of the kitchen. So fucking pathetic.

"Well," Daisy began as they walked down the hallway towards their shared room, "I feel silly."

"It's the principle of the thing," Mello muttered.

"I know, but I shouldn't have gotten so upset," she explained.

She wasn't surprised when Mello wouldn't admit that he had also over reacted. But when he guided her their bed, lay down beside her and gently rubbed her stomach with small, tight circles – she knew that he regretted his harsh actions. She would have kissed him right then, but there were words that were still unspoken and Calvin's taste was still in her mouth.

"If," Mello began, before the words seemed to stick in his mouth. Even his hand on her torso stopped moving. "If… for whatever reason you were to get knocked up, I would take on the responsibility for that. I'm not – not even remotely father-material… I have my own father's temper and I don't like distraction and I really don't like kids or want them, but I wouldn't leave you alone with that kind of burden. Not if I could help it."

Sighing a deep breath, Daisy sat up from under Mello's hand, turned around so she could still face Mello and laid her head on his toned stomach. Mello's hand returned to its ministrations.

A half-broken thought flashed through his mind: _Wouldn't their daughter look gorgeous with her mother's chocolate hair?_

And then he quickly dismissed it. Kids would not help him defeat Kira or beat Near. Kids were a distraction and an annoyance and he wouldn't deal with them if he didn't have to. As it was, he wasn't entirely certain he would make it out of this case alive. If Kira could take down the great L, who was to say that Mello wouldn't be killed by Kira? Or a fellow mafia member? Being in a criminal organization did increase the chances of death via murder.

"I wouldn't want to be a burden on you," Daisy murmured. "I wouldn't want to distract you. You've said a few times that I help you concentrate… or relax. Like chocolate-"

"Just like chocolate," Mello confirmed.

Nodding against his stomach, Daisy continued, "Yeah, so I don't want that to change. I like being useful to you… doing what those other girls can't. And a screaming baby wouldn't do any good and we both would just be a distraction to you. I don't want you to feel obligated to help me in any other way besides financially."

His fingers paused and she realized he probably had found that last sentence to be another instance of her underestimating him… again.

"But I shouldn't have assumed that you would be satisfied with just that," Daisy finished. She was rewarded with his continued stroking.

The two laid in silence for a while before Daisy moved back a little bit, hovering her head over the lacings of Mello's leather pants. He _would_ wear the laced up pants today. But really, like that was going to stop her. Sitting up, Daisy began plucking at the laces, pulling them apart with fingers that were very used to releasing Mello from his bindings.

Mello glanced down at her curiously, "What are you doing?"

"Making up for kneeing you in the groin yesterday," was the answer as she succeeded in pulling the pants open and freeing her prize.

She stroked him up and down, watching him grow in her hand.

Mello let out a low groan and joked, "I think you need to kiss it and make it feel better."

Laughing, she leaned over and was inches away from placing her lips against its head when she, herself, groaned. Not out of pleasure, not out of desire, not out of frustration. That little man with a butter knife in her uterus was back.

Daisy scrunched into a half-fetal position, pressing her forehead into his leather-clad thigh and tensed as another wave of pain hit her. She heard Mello give a little sigh and on the outskirts of her consciousness she realized that he had shrunk in her hand, any excitement about a blowjob fading from his mind as she winced again.

"Shall I have Calvin fetch you some Midol?" Mello asked, pulling her away from his exposed dick and up to his face so that she was lying next to him, wrapped in his arms.

"That would involve sitting up," she muttered into his shoulder.

Mello pressed his lips into her hair, before whispering in her ear, "If you're this bad now, I wonder how you'll be when you're having contractions…"


	2. Kept Pet

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

**A/N: Yay for making this a multichapter story. I guess we'll just have to see where this goes. So, now you get to see how they met… I might try to do a chapter on what happened after this chapter but once again, we'll see. I'm actually having a lot of fun with this kind of scenario… it's kind of like this romance can play out in a controlled environment – all in the mafia compound. So, there won't be a lot of different settings…**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Kept Pet<p>

By: Ginny

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><p>The mafia was trying to lay low.<p>

This made Mello itching… As an ambitious child, always trying to beat Near, Mello was unused to just sitting around doing absolutely nothing. And so this resulted in the group just sitting around, mostly shooting the breeze. Mello was trying to goad Rod into at least planning future endeavors, even if they would have to be put off for quite some time. Unfortunately, Rod was in no mood for business and had invited the whores for pleasure.

Mello had no patience for females. Even the girls at Wammy's had no focus, no ambition. If they weren't fawning over Matt or the very idea of L, they were giggling together. Studying and improving themselves were the farthest things from their mind. At one point there had been a girl named Mal who lived there and she actually studied… but that was because she was a normal person who had no choice but to study because she was falling behind. And quite frankly, the girls that Rod brought were some of the stupidest humans alive. Mello honestly couldn't stand it.

Especially the noise.

When it was just the men, they were wary enough to talk amongst themselves quietly, allowing Mello at least some peace. When the whores were invited, the volume rose tremendously because their high-pitched voices could cut through solid steel.

Take, for example, Paula. That girl simply attached herself to her man and kept blabbering on and on and on. God, everything she said was about the stupidest things ever, such as how her favorite designer had just come out with a pair of heels that were to die for and could Jerry pretty, pretty please buy them for her?

In fact, Paula kept talking so loudly that Mello couldn't keep a steady train of thought.

Taking a giant bite out of his candy bar, he was just about to turn to Jerry and tell him to shut his fucking whore up when a raspy voice cut through the room, "Oh my God, that's the third cookie you've eaten, Daisy. If you're not careful, you'll get even fatter."

All at once, the room fell silent – even Rod stopped his conversation. The catfighting amongst the whores was a thing of nightmares and not a single man dared interfere. They would rather face the barrel of a loaded gun held by a pissed off Mello rather than the claws of those harpies. There was no telling when a girl would suddenly turn around and claw your eyes out.

Mello glanced at the fiery red-head that had spoken. Karen, he remembered, had sparkling green eyes highlighted with purple eye-shadow and her clothing left very little room to imagine what her petite, slender body looked like. All in all, she was a pretty high-class hooker – definitely a lot better than most of the girls who were in the room. And it was no wonder she had been claimed by the man directly under Mello in rank – Danny. Maybe if she kept her mouth shut, Mello would be willing to do her.

When the whole room turned their eyes to focus on the subject of Karen's exclamation, Mello also twisted to look at her. He quickly saw that perhaps Karen was a little right – Daisy had a little more cushion for pushin' than was typically socially acceptable. Granted, it was focused on her hips, buttocks and chest but it still made her seem wide.

Daisy had paused, mid-reach for the plate of cookies on the table. Once she realized that everyone had chosen to focus on her, she tilted her head to get a better look at Karen. Her eyebrows flashed down and then back up discretely and an angry flush spread out on her cheeks – even her brown eyes seemed to glimmer a sparkling red.

Finally she schooled her expression into something nonchalant and shrugged her shoulders. She reached that final foot and snatched up another chocolate chip cookie. "I think I'll be fine," she said, evenly.

The other girl responded with a shrug of her own, shifting in Danny's lap where she had been situated that entire time.

Mello glanced between the two girls – this was probably a power struggle, he decided. Sure, there were struggles for dominance in the mafia men ranks – people constantly trying to get as close to the top as possible. Even Mello had had to climb that ladder and work his way up to his position of second-in-command. The whores were no different. They didn't sell drugs or firearms, but by being claimed by men of a certain position, the women would gain a certain respect and prestige.

For the most part, the whores that frequented the mafia hideout were stereotypical in appearance and behavior: crude, and vulgar and tanned unevenly and sleazy and dyed-job blonde and claw-like nails and far too much make up. Daisy and Karen were something special. Both were naturally pretty. But where Karen was a fiery, curly redhead, Daisy had long, dark, straight brown hair. Where Karen had bright green eyes, Daisy had dark, beady irises. Where Karen was slim and toned, Daisy was soft and curvy. Both had naturally olive-tone skin. Both wore clothes that were far too revealing, both wore far too much make up and both had fake nails that could slit a man's jugular.

Even though Daisy was claimed by a pretty low ranking member, she had the looks and class to move up – possibly threatening Karen's place. Karen was trying to push her down a peg, Mello decided.

_How fucking pathetic…_ he thought, leaning back on the couch. Eventually the focus turned from the squabbling girls and the room erupted back into conversation.

As Mello cocked his head to Rod, trying to draw his attention away from his whore and back on some potential plans, Mello happened to spot Daisy just in time to see her munching happily on her chocolate chip cookie, winking at her man.

* * *

><p>The next day was almost as annoying for Mello. The whole group was back in the common room, spread out and paired off and still talking up a storm. Some idiot had added alcohol to the mix this time though.<p>

"You want some?" Calvin asked, holding a beer bottle out to Mello.

"No, you idiot," Mello snapped. "Alcohol dulls the senses."

From her position leaning against Calvin, Daisy frowned, "That's typically the point." Then she tipped her head back and downed the rest of her bottle in a few gulps.

Mello opened his mouth – probably to snap at her something along the lines of "shut the fuck up, you stupid whore" – when two people who had been previously absent came busting into room, still attached at the mouth and certainly not letting go anytime soon. Karen and Danny stumbled towards the couch and in their make-out frenzy, Karen hit the couch with her behind, upsetting everyone sitting on the piece of furniture and startling herself out of her ecstasy.

"Oops," she giggled.

Danny placed a small peck on her nose and squeezed her ass, saying, "Get me something to drink, would you?" Then Danny came to sit on the couch next to Mello, hopping over the back of it recklessly (almost totally copying Mello's signature swagger in the process). Mello scrunched his nose in disgust and took a final bite of his chocolate bar, savoring the _click_ of the solid chocolate breaking between his teeth.

It wasn't until the exclamation of "Oh my God!" rang out that the whole room turned to the voice. Some of the men – Mello included – had reached for their guns just in case. It was an unnecessary precaution it seemed because Karen had simply had a bit of a wardrobe malfunction.

Her strapless corset had ripped clean up the side and since there was nothing to hold it up, the piece of clothing had fallen to the floor. In a show of modesty a whore really shouldn't possess, Karen crossed an arm over her chest to shield her tits from view. Instantly a few girls sprang up to help shield the vulnerable girl. They were not in time, however to avoid the coming tragedy – Karen bent over the pick up her discarded corset only for her jean mini-skirt to let out a _rrreeeeeee_ sound as it ripped clean up the back seam. Letting out another curse, Karen used her other hand to hold her skirt in place as she sprinted out of the room, followed by a few of her friends.

Daisy, Mello noticed, was not part of that group.

In fact, he instantly turned to see her reaction as Karen quickly departed and was not disappointed by the wild glint in her eye and the smirk on her mouth.

And when she caught Mello looking at her, her smirk only grew.

"Hey Daisy," Danny spoke up, totally nonchalant. "Would you get me a beer? Karen seems a little busy."

"Of course, Danny," Daisy bent over suggestively to give him a great view of her cleavage as she delivered the bottle. "Whatever you want."

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><p>Karen returned pretty quickly, redressed in a nice black dress – her face a little red. Her gaggle of girls flanked her as she came to sit down next to Danny. She took note of the beer bottle in his hand and her face flushed even more. Perhaps that was why she sat down a lot harder than she meant to.<p>

And perhaps that was why her dress ripped, too.

The sound wasn't particularly loud, audible to only those who were sitting close enough to her. At first, her face just brightened considerably and then is scrunched up in fury. For the most part though, she was pretty silent and no one noticed. It was her jumping up and wildly pointing as Daisy that turned everyone's attention back on her.

"You bitch!" she let out an animalistic snarl. "You fucked with my clothes!"

"Or you've just gotten even fatter," Daisy echoed, taking another swig of beer.

Another infernal snarl sprung from Karen's mouth as she stomped away in her hooker heels. Her gaggle of girls followed her loyally; each shooting Daisy dirty looks before they disappeared around the corner. To her credit, Daisy maintained a look of absolute innocence.

Mello sighed, _Why did they let girls into this compound?_

Girls just managed to complicate things. Really, it was like letting girls into the tree fort – eventually they would take over, redecorate and kick the boys out. At Whammy's there was a tree fort. Once upon a time he and Matt had been the kings of that fort until they let Linda in… that bitch set up her own little workshop and Mello never saw the inside of that tree fort again. And all because Matt had a sweet spot for the painter.

Mello almost wanted to punctuate that mental diss with a snap from his chocolate bar… only to realize that he was, in fact, missing his chocolate bar… apparently he had forgotten to restock. Jumping up, he hoped to slink away to go grab one from his room before Karen came back and decided to throw an even bigger hissy fit.

Just barely halfway to his room, muffled voices stopped his progress.

"I can't stand that fuckin' bitch!" Mello recognized the raspy voice as Karen's. "Where the hell does she get off messin' with my clothes?"

Another voice spoke up, "She's just a jealous fuckin' whore."

"Psh, and we all know why," Karen said. Mello lost interest and moved forward again – his desire for chocolate overwhelming him now. "I'm the top whore and Danny has a thing for redheads, so he's not going anywhere. The only way she can get any higher is if she took up with that creep, Mello."

At his name, Mello stopped again.

"And we all know that he's gay," another girl said.

Mello clutched his fists, receiving the satisfying crunch as his leather gloves rubbed together. He had had to deal with these kinds of assumptions enough at Wammy's because of how close he was to Matt and his current clothing choices didn't exactly scream "straight". But God fuck it, he still hated it when people just assumed things that weren't true – especially when they assumed he wasn't as manly as he truly was.

"And into all that freaky S and M stuff," some other chick put in.

Mello grit his teeth – he knew that his temper was volatile and dangerous and in this kind of mood he might honestly kill these girls. But that would anger the men these girls belonged to and then Mello would have to kill them too which would anger Rod and that would be unfortunate because that would destroy any chance for Mello to defeat Kira and beat Near. So he took a deep breath and decided to take a lesson out of Daisy's book.

All his desire for his chocolate gone, he stomped back to the common room and spotted his prize. Within two seconds he had swooped down and snatched her up – his nails digging into her upper arm.

Daisy let out a sound of protest as she was hauled up from the couch and down the hall but it wasn't until he had (almost quite literally) thrown her into his bedroom that she asked, "What the hell?"

"Shut up," he snapped.

Stepping back, his eyes trailed her up and down, taking in her outfit and the way it fit her. She was wearing a slinky, tight red sequin dress with black stockings, probably a garter belt and black heeled boots. Unfortunately, the black jean jacket she was wearing obstructed her figure from Mello's view. Frowning, he stepped forward and yanked her around so he could forcibly remove the jacket from her body.

Daisy didn't resist – not that he had expected her to. She was a whore and was very used to men being rough. She also knew that she was there to be used and abused by the men. Mello was one of those men – a special one of those men because he was second in command.

With the jacket off, Mello flipped her around to see her curves more clearly. Yes, she was a little wide, but up close Mello realized she had a rather abundant rack which gave the illusion of a wider body shape. Decent, Mello decided.

"Turn around," he commanded.

She did so, spinning on her heel. Her ass wasn't too bad either.

"Face me again."

Mello advanced on Daisy, grasping her chin to tilt her head every which way, his blue eyes taking in every flaw and detail of her face. He liked the bright red lips and even the dark eyeliner – but that hideously red blush on her cheeks did nothing for her light olive skin. It definitely needed to go.

"Get rid of that shit on your cheeks," he snapped, releasing her chin. Almost on instinct, her hands came up to cover her cheeks, a little insulted.

Mello took a step back and nodded, definitely, "You'll do."

Daisy pulled a face and dropped her hands from her cheeks, snarking, "Glad to know I'll be sufficient enough for you."

"I never said you were sufficient," he glared, "just that you'll serve my purpose."

"And what purpose is that?" she questioned, crossing her arms.

Mello crossed his arms to mimic her, "You want to trump Karen, don't you?" Daisy's eyes sparkled with confirmation. "Then just follow my lead and you'll be top whore."

Taking her wrist roughly, he nearly dragged her back towards the common room. They were just out of the bedroom door when Daisy pulled back, resisting. "My jacket-"

"Leave it," Mello snapped, yanking her hard to get her to follow him again. "You'll be moving your stuff in later anyways."

"Does Calvin know you're claiming me?"

"Calvin has no say in it – just like you, so it doesn't matter."

When they reached the common room, everyone turned to look at them. Karen in particular stared wide-eyed at Mello's hand on her wrist. She had apparently, however, managed to find a piece of clothing that hadn't been fucked with. Mello made eye-contact with her and tilted his head back ever so slightly, literally snubbing his nose at her. Karen flushed an angry purple and looked away.

Mello flopped down in his old seat but this time he dragged his new whore onto his lap. Daisy wiggled just a little bit before settling down and leaning against him, cautiously. Calvin glanced between the two, and then at the way Mello's arms was wrapped possessively around her waist. He opened his mouth. He obviously had some objections to this new arrangement. Mello simply shot him a dark glower and the older man snapped his jaw closed.

Then the blond noted that the whole room was still focused on him and the girl.

"What are you looking at?" he snapped.

And suddenly everyone turned to someone near them and forced some semblance of conversation, lest they incite Mello's wrath. Rod gave the blond a predatory grin, and Mello knew that the boss was just glad that Mello would finally be getting laid and perhaps have his temperament cooled.

_I bet he's also hoping for a hot fucking day in hell, too,_ Mello snarked.

Giving a groan, Mello reached out to the table and grabbed a beer bottle. Forcing it open with his teeth, he took a single, long gulp. Then he shoved the bottle in front of Daisy's face, "Feel free to dull your senses." She stared at him in confusion but took the bottle anyways. Giving him a little salute, she sipped gingerly.

* * *

><p>Around five o'clock, the group broke up before dinner. When the common room was essentially empty, Mello roughly pushed Daisy off his lap and onto the floor. She gave a small <em>uph!<em> and glared up at him, but made no other action of rebellion – she knew her place.

"Go get your stuff," he commanded, standing. Then he stalked off down the hallway.

A few minutes later, Daisy arrived in his room, her arms filled with her possessions. Gracelessly, she dropped it all onto the floor and then left again – only to return moments later with another pile.

Then, she looked around. His room was… dark. It was an eerie combination of a warehouse, a pimp's penthouse and an old church. All four walls were an ugly off-white that probably wasn't exactly meant to be that color and there were exposed pipes along the walls. The bed was huge and round and covered with black pillows and cheetah print sheets. The dresser, armoire, bedside table, mirror and huge, intimidating bookcase were all in a dark wood and all bare – except for the bookcase which was stuffed with books. There was a large leather chair stationed against a wall and a cross nailed right above it. And that wasn't the only cross present in the room. Nailed over the bed and over the door, there was a crucifix each. A single door on one wall led to what was probably a bathroom.

Mello noted that she was observing her new surroundings instead of focusing on putting her stuff away. Using the tip of his shoe, he sorted through the pile on the floor: flashy clothes, a pair of high heels, lingerie, a box that Mello supposed held jewelry, a hair straightener, a small bag of make-up, another bag of toiletries and a box of strawberry-flavored condoms.

"Put your toiletries in the bathroom," Mello said. "I cleared a drawer for you in the dresser. Fold your clothes and put them away. Shoes go by the door."

Daisy snapped out of her observations and got to work. It wasn't until she had carefully folded her clothing into the drawers (figuring Mello was a terrible and unapologetic neat-freak) that she was able to get a better look at the bookcase – stacked completely with careworn books. She heard the bang of the bathroom door closing. Glancing at the closed door, she snuck over to the bookcase.

Fingering the books up and down, she quickly realized that they weren't in English… or any Romantic or Germanic language. There were symbols instead.

The toilet flushed and the sound of water running from a faucet was heard. Daisy glanced back at the door and pulled a book from the shelf – opening it and inspecting it. She probably shouldn't be messing with Mello's things, but they were out in the open and she honestly wanted to know more about this man who had decided that she would serve his purposes. Besides, he was still in the bathroom, she had a few moments. Almost to contradict her, the door banged open and Daisy tensed, waiting to be scolded.

When Mello made no comment, Daisy replaced the book on the shelf.

"You like to read?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered softly.

"These are all in a foreign language."

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"Russian."

"You can speak Russian?"

"Yes."

"Are you Russian?"

"Are you always this annoying?"

Daisy glanced back at him and her breath caught in her chest. Mello was leaning against the doorway of the bathroom, one hand on his hip. He had removed his vest, revealing what his toned arms had foreshadowed – a lithe form and slender muscles. A beautiful rosary swung from his neck. Dusty pink nipples stood out against his pale skin and if he had any hair on his chest, it was so blond that from that distance, Daisy couldn't see it. She did see the way he narrowed his eyes when he noticed how her eyes had assessed his bare chest. That didn't seem to matter to her though, as a blazing heat shot from her head, straight down to her stomach where it pooled for a moment. The muscles between her legs clenched involuntarily.

Taking a deep breath, embarrassed that she had been affected like that, Daisy turned back to the bookcase and removed a book that looked careworn and beloved. The cover art was of a man leaning out of a cathedral that Daisy recognized as Notre Dame. Unfortunately, the title was in the foreign language that Daisy couldn't understand.

"Is this The Hunchback of Notre Dame?"

"Yes."

"It's my favorite book," she informed him quietly, as she replaced it on the shelf.

"I don't care," he snapped.

Ouch, what an asshole. At least Calvin pretended to indulge her. Sure, she was a bit of a rambler… well, a terrible rambler. She hated silence. Even forced conversation was better than an awkward silence. But she figured Mello was one to prefer silence… he probably didn't talk during sex, either. Well, if he intended to claim her, he had better be prepared to deal with her ramblings. Then she remembered who exactly she was dealing with… maybe it would be better if she just learned how to keep her mouth shut.

She heard him push himself off the wall and she involuntarily tensed. It was only when his footfalls lead to the armoire that she relaxed. Daisy listened as he opened it and removed something, before slamming the door.

Pressing herself closer to the bookcase, she turned around, placing her hands behind her back. With practiced moves, she pushed her chest out to increase her already abundant cleavage and gave Mello a small, sexy smile.

"So why did you finally decide to shack up?" When his eyes only narrowed in response, Daisy shot her eyebrows up and glanced to the floor, feigning submission. "Not that I'm complaining," she explained. "This is a nice promotion… and I've always thought you were interesting…" Shooting him a shy smile that was as real as her acrylic nails, she added, "and sexy." He apparently didn't like her saying that – or he could tell she was just trying to get on his good side. So she shrugged. "But this is kind of sudden."

"Vengeance," he snarled, throwing the shirt he had retrieved from the armoire onto his bed.

Daisy crossed the room and sat on the bed, gingerly. She still wasn't sure what he considered an invasion of his space. When he didn't do anything except stare at her in response, she crossed her legs. She didn't miss the way his eyes glanced at the way this new pose showed off her plump upper thighs.

"Against Calvin or Danny?" she asked, figuring he was targeting one or the other and using her indirectly. Taking her from Calvin was a way of emasculating him. Claiming her would also piss Karen off tremendously and therefore annoy Danny when she would later bitch about it. Complaining was Karen's typical pillow talk.

"Karen," Mello damn near snarled. A shiver slid down Daisy's spine.

_Don't piss this dude off,_ she decided.

With little need to pretend, because she was honestly curious, she asked, "What did she do?"

Mello slid on a pair of leather gloves Daisy hadn't seen him remove. "She insulted me," he clenched his fist, watching the way the leather moved and cringed across his knuckles.

_Definitely don't piss this dude off._

"Yeah," Daisy shot him a smile she hoped seemed sympathetic, "she does that a lot… to just about everybody. I think she's hoping Danny will knock you out of power. She's pretty creative," she rambled. "But mostly she just claims that you're gay."

"I'm not gay!" Mello yelled, twisting to face her wildly.

She realized pretty quickly that she had made a mistake. But after a year of dealing with these kinds of situations, she knew how to make a man feel like he was a man – and a very strong and powerful man at that. Calvin himself had some inferiority issues himself and had loved when Daisy made him feel like he was on top of the world. Maybe she could do some good for Mello, too, she pondered.

Gracefully standing, she made her way over to Mello.

"Well yeah," she said, tilting her head in the same way she would towards a wild animal, and smiling. "I saw the way you looked me up and down when you were… um," she shot him a flirty smile, "inspecting the merchandise," she finished.

Once she reached him, she placed her hands on his shoulders. He still didn't pull away, just looked straight at her – she was his height when she wore these five inch heels. Tearing her eyes away from his angelic face, she watched her hands as they slid down his chest – brushing his nipples, which caused goose bumps to rise to the surface, and then hooking into his waistband. Slowly, she brought her head up and placed her lips gently against his.

Mello let her move her mouth against his. Mello let her fingers dance against the bare skin above his pants. Mello let her press her ample chest against his bare one, the sequins sharply moving against his skin. But he didn't respond, so Daisy pulled back and looked up at him in confusion.

"Don't misunderstand me," Mello snapped. "I'm not gay, but that doesn't mean that I need you to be a distraction. You're a trophy on my mantle – a kept pet. Enjoy it while it lasts, you whore."

Then he whirled around, roughly grabbed his black wife beater off the bed and left.

Daisy took a deep breath when he finally left her sight and then she slid to the floor. This might have been a promotion, and Mello might be much more handsome than Calvin, but she already missed her former position. At least Calvin was nice to her… treated her with respect. This was almost as bad as when she had first been introduced to this life…

"Six more months," she whispered, pressing her forehead into the top of her knees. "Six more months," she repeated, nearly breathing the words like they were her dying declamation.


	3. The Awakening

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

**A/N: Yay for summer. That's all.**

**Also, this follows directly after the last one. They won't always be in chronological order… it really just depends where my inspiration hits me and how hard exactly it hits me. This one is pretty long because I didn't want to break it up into different pieces. There are at least two more episodes I want to hit. So those will hopefully get done.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>The Awakening<p>

By: Ginny

* * *

><p>In one of the unused rooms in the very back of the compound, there was a window. It was a rarity. Most of the walls in the compound were complete brick, allowing for the minimal amount of cell phone service possible and the maximum amount of security possible. Daisy figured that Mello liked it that way. Daisy knew that she, herself, hated it that way. When she wasn't busy… which was always… she liked to go to that unused room, pull a crate up in alignment with the window and watch the sky.<p>

Clouds would drift past and she would see the faces of the people she left behind. She would see objects that were gathering dust in her room back home; she would see places she used to frequent.

When the sun set and the stars were twinkling in the beautiful L.A. sky, Daisy slid off her crate, tugged her skirt down slightly out of habit and sauntered back into the heart of the compound.

This was the part of the day that she dreaded.

Daisy would wake up in the morning, sneak into the shower without waking Mello up. She would shower quick enough to not waste all his hot water and then tap his shoulder to slowly bring him back to the world of the living. While he was showering, she would do her hair back in the bedroom, get dressed and put on her make up. Then Mello would get dressed and leave. At first, Daisy would be scared to leave – not knowing whether he wanted her locked in there or whatever so she'd read the only two books on that huge bookshelf that were in English. Eventually, she'd grow some balls and wander off – talk with Calvin, perhaps. Sometimes she flirted with Danny or the other men. Soon, she would end up in that room, looking at the sky. When night fell, she would be forced back into that bedroom with Mello and the silence that eventually followed.

Sometimes she returned before he did. Today was not kind of a day.

"Oh, hey," Daisy greeted, as she gingerly closed the door behind her.

Mello had glanced up when he had heard someone opening his door without permission and had almost grabbed his gun just to teach them a lesson before he remembered that his whore was missing and that she probably didn't expect him back so early. He gave a little nod, and went back to his book.

Glancing at his lithe figure on the bed, Daisy made her way over to the single drawer that was hers.

God, this was so awkward.

Sliding the drawer open with the minimal amount of noise possible, she plucked free a nightgown Calvin had bought for her months ago, when she had first been his. It was a sexy little red teddy that barely covered what it needed to… but these kinds of teddies were all she owned by way of sleeping clothes. It really wouldn't be so awkward if Mello just responded.

Really, she had done some pretty damn shameful things. She as a whore – a paid bedmate. There were few things that could honestly make her blush. Yet, here she was, clutching her red teddy, avoiding the half-naked man on the round (and as she had learned earlier – spinning and vibrating) bed, and blushing like a teenage girl.

Yes, he had said that she was to be a kept pet… but still, that's what most of the whores were anyways. And their duties extended into the bed.

Daisy had nothing to do. Mello was a terrible workaholic and mostly just ignored her. She had half a mind to go back to Calvin, because quite honestly, if she had to experience another two weeks of this kind of boredom she might shoot someone… probably Mello.

"What are you reading?" Daisy asked, unzipping her skirt at the same time.

Mello glanced up, noted her actions, and returned to his book. "Madame Bovary," he said, almost against his will.

"Really?" Daisy's hands stopped pulling down her skirt. "I've read that before. It was good."

He gave a non-committing noise in the back of his throat.

She turned around and let her skirt fall to the floor. The little tank top she also wore joined it in a second.

The silence unnerved her.

"But you know," Daisy continued. "I really thought The Awakening was better. But that could be because I'm an American and – yeah, The Awakening still had some French influence, but at least it was set in America." Slipping into her teddy, Daisy forced herself to not turn around and instead set about undoing her hair. As chocolate locks fell around her shoulders, she began rambling again, "But, you know, Madame Bovary had a decent about of humor in it. I actually was reading it once and I giggled at… I think it was the part where Leon and Emma are in the carriage going at it like rabbits." Daisy finally turned to face Mello. "The characters were also quite funny…"

She stopped.

Mello was glaring.

Gulping, Daisy forced a smile onto her face and stepped up to the bed, opening her mouth to apologize.

"Stop. Talking."

"Well, there isn't much else I can do," Daisy said. "I'm bored out of my mind. I can't even read because all your books are in Russian. And you never answered my question!"

Kneeling on the bed, she stared down at him.

"What question?" he gritted out.

"Whether or not you're Russian."

"I am. Happy?"

"But you have a bit of British accent…?"

"I lived there."

"So what are you doing here?"

"Business."

"Mafia business?"

"Shut up and stop talking. You aren't here to talk."

Crossing her arms, Daisy huffed, "You're right! I'm here for you to fuck and you aren't fucking me so I'm basically useless. And bored. And I have nothing to do. I need something to do."

Mello snapped his book closed and sighed. "You're right," he allowed.

"Of course I'm –"

"You _are_ useless."

His words were like steel and Daisy shivered. Even his blue eyes glimmered maliciously. Cold hearted fucking bastard. Calvin never made her feel like this. Calvin worshipped her. Calvin knew she wasn't here because she wanted to be and he made her feel like there was always hope. Honestly, Daisy would have preferred it if Mello just hauled off and hit her… it might have hurt less than this emotional abuse.

Without looking at him again, Daisy climbed into bed, rolled away from him and closed her eyes.

Sleep was the only cure for this situation.

* * *

><p>A few more days of awkwardness passed and Daisy continued to wonder why she stayed there. Yeah, Mello would probably be insulted that she had chosen a balding old man over him, but sometimes desperate measures were needed in desperate situations.<p>

That night, Daisy had returned before Mello (thank goodness gracious) and had climbed into bed. Thumbing through the book she hadn't read three times already, she waited for him. Why? She had no idea. Probably some strange, mild version of Stockholm syndrome, she decided. Surely when she got the heck out of here she would pay some shrink to cure her of that kind of reaction.

"Okay, I can't do this anymore," Daisy muttered to herself. Snapping the book closed, she placed it back on the shelf and burrowed herself under the cheetah-print covers.

Tomorrow she would move out.

Almost to punctuate that decision, the bedroom door banged open and Mello came stomping in. His foot falls paused a moment as he probably caught sight of the fact that she was already asleep – or at least trying to sleep. He snorted and loudly made his way to the bathroom.

Within a few minutes he was laying next to her.

Darkness edged around Daisy's vision and she gave a little sigh as her senses dulled and she finally fell asleep.

* * *

><p>She was being suffocated.<p>

Iron ropes wrapped around her middle, pulling her inside herself – squeezing her ribs into her heart and lungs and cutting off her breath and heartbeat. She tried to squirm free, but the bindings held tight and even seemed to constrict her even more, the more she struggled. In desperation, her hands shot down to grasp at the iron and through her cloudy sleep-drenched mind she realized that it was flesh she made contact with.

And suddenly she forced herself to calm down – and breathe, breathe, breathe. In response, the grip around her loosened.

Wandering fingers found the arms that held her, followed downward to the wrists and the clenching fists digging into her stomach. A solid bit of warmth was pressed into her back… Mello's head, she realized. He was spooning her.

God, he was holding on so tight though.

As soon as that thought formed in her head, Mello gave one great convulsion and his grip tightened exponentially. Daisy gasped as her breathe was forced from her chest. If he hit any lower, he might force her stomach to relieve itself of its contents.

"Agh," Mello groaned into her back. "No…" he whispered.

"Mello?" Daisy asked into the darkness.

When his only response was another low groan, Daisy tried to relax again. He was still asleep, she realized. And from the noises he was making, he was probably having a nightmare. It was odd to imagine the great, temperamental Mello having a nightmare and moaning in his sleep. A few moments passed and it seemed like his nightmare was finally over because his arms became completely flexible and Daisy tried to simply slide away.

It almost worked, too.

She pulled herself from his arms for a moment before he let out a small noise of protest and rolled with her – swinging a leg over her hip and pinning her beneath his body. In doing so, the covers slid farther down his back and cold flooded into the bed. In his sleep, he curled up against her – still on top of her.

His head burrowed itself into her breasts and he finally remained immobile for the rest of the night. Daisy held her breath and prepared to push him off of her.

Then she glanced down at his face. In the past she had never had the opportunity to witness the expression he made while he slept – fearing that if she did eavesdrop he would suddenly wake up and scare the living daylights out of her. Now however, his mouth was open ever so slightly and relaxed. All the harsh lines on his forehead and around his mouth were gone, his piercing eyes were hidden beneath his pale eyelids and she could fully appreciate his long blond eyelashes that fanned out on his cheek. He looked like a child. It was perhaps the fact that his head was buried in her tits that made it seem like he was a frightened child seeking comfort in his mother's bosom.

Gently, hesitantly, Daisy pulled the covers back up around him and then put her arms around Mello.

It was much easier to fall asleep after that.

* * *

><p>Daisy noticed the absence of warmth almost immediately. Cracking her eyes against the artificial light that flooded the room, she searched for Mello.<p>

And there he was, standing next to the bed. He was turned away from her, tense and unyielding. The _shhh_ of the bedside drawer opening broke through the silence of the room and Mello pulled a chocolate bar from its depths. With no grace whatsoever, he ripped the foil with his teeth and bit in.

She sat up and blinked at him.

"Mello?" she inquired to his turned back.

He grunted.

"A-are you alright now?"

Mello glared at her over his shoulder, but Daisy wasn't willing to stop there – she honestly wanted to know if he was okay.

"Because you weren't doing too well last night and I was just –"

Daisy didn't see it coming. She was sitting up in bed one moment and the next moment she was bent over on one side, grasping her stinging cheek and trying to force the tears to stay in her eyes.

Like hell she would give Mello the satisfaction of seeing her cry just because he hit her.

"_Fuck you, Mello_!" she screamed as she jumped up and took off out of the room.

Mello didn't follow her.

* * *

><p>Daisy went to Calvin's room first – on the door knob was a pair of lacy black panties… which was the universal sign in the mafia compound that the occupants were getting it on. She had been replaced. Fine, Daisy decided as she headed for the window in the back room. When she was back home she had had a friend who liked looking up at stars and knew all the constellations. Maybe Daisy could find the Little Dipper if she looked hard enough.<p>

Sighing, she pulled up a crate and plopped down.

That fucking bastard.

She didn't ask to be claimed by him. She tried her best to stay out of his way and be the best trophy whore she could be. She had only been trying to help him through his rough night. And he had the balls to hit her. Not a backhand, not a slap – a full out punch right under her eye socket. She could already feel it swelling up under her fingers as she touched it.

While debating between staying there – staying safe and getting up to go grab some frozen peas or something, Daisy didn't notice the footsteps behind her.

If Mello's grip had been iron ropes, this was cords of fire… right… around her… neck.

She let out a scream right before the wind was knocked out of her. The headlock was impossible to break and Daisy tried backing up.

"Stop moving!" a harsh voice commanded her.

It was unfamiliar and male and only caused Daisy to fight back harder. Her elbow hit the soft part of the man's chest and he let out a grunt of pain, loosening his grip. Daisy pushed herself away from her attacker and tried to make a run for it. A hand shot forward and entangled itself in her hair. She was yanked back – losing her footing and her bare knees hit the concrete with a dull thud.

Blinding pain shot up her knees and was only accented when he punched her right above the jaw. She spit up blood and could barely move, because she was so disoriented.

The man seemed to realize that she wasn't going anywhere because he let her go and kicked her right in the stomach. Retching, Daisy bent over and tried to catch her breath. Then the man grabbed her hair again and pushed her head straight down onto the floor – her forehead touching the concrete. Daisy still couldn't move.

It wasn't until he shifted behind her and lifted up her teddy that Daisy realized what his objective was – she was going to be raped.

_God, someone help me!_ she prayed. _Mello… please. Please, Mello. Help me._

In a last ditch effort she tried to crawl away and received a sharp punch to the back of her head. It caused her face to smack completely into the floor and she felt her nose flare up in protest to the abuse. The man fingered the end of her panties and pulled them down to around her knees.

As the cool air hit her most private body parts, she tensed and prepared herself. Flashback after flashback hit her straight in the brain and she couldn't even begin to form normal thoughts. Instead, she threw herself onto her side and kicked out wildly. When he gave a sharp curse, Daisy hoped she had hit something seriously important.

Rolling to her feet, pausing only a moment to pull her panties up, Daisy sprinted out of the room and into the hallway.

"Get back here!" he yelled.

Daisy heard him right behind her as she entered the common room. Glancing back, she made the fatal mistake of not looking at where she was going and she slipped on the rug, falling over the couch and landing with a thud against the coffee table and then the floor. The glass shattered.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear doors opening and the other men drawing their weapons. But at the front of her mind she was only aware of the fact that the man was leaning over the couch, trying the grab her leg and pull her to him.

"Hey, it's Johnny – he's got Mello's girl!"

Mello's girl? Who was Mello's girl? When had he finally gotten together with someone? Wow, Daisy thought hazily, that poor girl. He was such a jackass. Why had she ever thought he was sexy? Why had she ever thought he was interesting?

"What the fuck is going on here?" The voice was soft but commanding. Daisy knew that voice.

The man released her ankle and moved away, hands raised in surrender. Not that that did much –

A shot rang through the room and the man dropped, bent over the couch where he remained immobile as blood leaked onto the fabric.

Daisy just stared with vacant eyes at the dead body until a leather-clad figure appeared next to her, dragging her to her feet. She flinched against the light as Mello lifted her chin to take a look at her face. Tilting it back and forth, he frowned. Then he released her and turned to the men who now crowded the common room.

"Let this be a lesson to anyone who thinks they can fuck with what is mine," Mello declared.

She wasn't paying attention – she was focused on the body that was bent over the couch. She hadn't had a chance to get a good look at him when the attack was occurring, but now in the florescent light of the common room, she could recognize the back of his head… he was a lower ranking member – lower than Calvin at least. He had often tried to claim her, but it was a demotion and Daisy had always made it obvious that she wasn't interested. Recently he had made it a habit of saying vulgar things to her and making lewd gestures when he thought Mello wasn't looking. He had always creeped her out. And now he was dead.

Mello wrapped his hand around her wrist and tugged her back to his room. With gentleness she didn't know he possessed, he settled her down on the bed and left – just for a moment before he came back and threw an icepack onto the bed next to her.

"Put that on your face," he commanded.

Daisy just stared at it, wrapping her arms around herself. The night air was cold.

"Agh," he grunted, sitting down next to her and picking the icepack up himself. Angling her face again, he gingerly pressed the icepack against first her cheek, then right above her jaw. "He really managed to get you good," he commented.

Anger flared up in Daisy's chest. She had just been violated by a true fucking creep, after having been abused by the man that was supposed to protect her. How dare Mello fucking be so careless with his words? How dare Mello try to help her when he committed a violation as well? God, yeah – getting beat up and almost raped was fucking terrible, but Daisy was a whore… sadly, it was all in a day's work. But being ignored, neglected and rejected – basically mind-fucked by a twat like Mello was pretty damn worse.

"Yeah, you almost can't tell where you hit me," she commented lightly.

The reaction was just as she had expected: Mello tensed. What was unexpected was the fact that he refused to make eye contact with her.

"I didn't hit you that hard," he said.

"Get away from me," Daisy made no move to push the icepack away – she just stared him down, totally numb.

Huffing, Mello dropped the icepack and stalked off to the shower, "Don't be a bitch."

The door closed just in time that the icepack hit the door instead of Mello.

* * *

><p>They didn't speak for the whole next day.<p>

"You want my advice?"

Mello turned to the voice. He had been sitting at the desktop computer in the common room, scrolling through Kira's victims, trying and failing to find something that L had missed. Everyone else had turned in early except for Rod who had stepped out to take a dump. Mello had no idea why the fuck Calvin was still awake. All he cared about was the fact that the older man was bothering him.

"Not particularly," Mello shot back.

Calvin plopped onto the couch and crossed his arms. Mello simply shot him a look of contempt and continued to scroll.

"Chocolate."

_That_ got Mello's attention.

"What about it?"

"Get her some," Calvin explained. "Every time we fought, all I had to do was leave her a nice little box of chocolates and she would be back begging for more. And with all your chocolate bars, I'm certain it won't be any trouble. And," he added. "Make-up sex is the best kind of sex there is."

Mello raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "I don't care," he muttered and got back to work.

* * *

><p>Mello threw the bag on the bed. It bounced slightly and opened to reveal its emptiness just waiting to be filled.<p>

"Pack," he said.

"Why?"

"I have business."

"That has nothing to do with me."

"It normally wouldn't. But you almost got raped and if I leave you alone it might happen again. So I'm stuck with you."

"Fine."

"Good."

"Where are we going?"

"Chicago."

"Why?"

"Business."

"Mafia business?"

"Shut up."

"That's a 'no' – because if it was a 'yes' you would have just said so. I'm catching on, you know. And if it's not mafia business it's another kind of business."

"Such as?"

"You're a spy aren't you? Or an undercover cop?"

"No."

"So you say…"

"Shut up," Mello finally gritted out.

Daisy stood, grabbed the bag and walked to the single drawer she had been given a few weeks ago. She knew when the battle was lost, but it was farther than she had gotten in a long while. Since that fateful night, Mello had been at least civil with her. It wasn't good by any means, but it wasn't terrible either. She could maybe live with that… so long as he didn't have any nightmares and try to find solace in her tits again.

* * *

><p>By that afternoon they were landing in Chicago.<p>

Mello was looking around for the person who was supposed to come pick them up, but Daisy was more focused on the payphones at the airport. If she could just sneak away and call her family… tell them to come to Midway…

"Mello!" The two turned to find the voice.

The blond nodded and greeted, "Matt. How are you?"

"Good, good," he replied. The man was probably the same age as Mello, with dark auburn hair and eyes that were obstructed by… goggles? Daisy blinked for a moment. And the dude apparently had Mello's level of fashion sense as he was wearing stripes and a fur vest. He also refused to look up the entire time from his Nintendo DS.

"Where's your car?" Mello asked.

"Parking garage," Matt nodded to the right. "Let's go."

The group made their way to the parking garage but it wasn't until they reached the elevator that Matt finally bothered to look up at Daisy.

"Who's the cute girl?" he asked.

"Daisy," she replied before Mello could speak up for her. She glanced down at the device in his hands, "What game are you playing?"

Mello almost groaned – there was no better way to get Matt to talk and talk and talk about useless things than to ask him about his videogames. At this rate, he would never get briefed on what was happening on the Kira case.

* * *

><p>Daisy woke up in an unfamiliar bed. For a moment she forgot where she was – the sheets were a deep blue and rough against her fingertips. For a moment she thought she was back home. Even Mello was missing. Slowly, though, as she lifted her head to glance around the room, she realized that she was in Matt's bedroom… in Matt's apartment. And Mello was probably already awake. From the hushed voices in the living room, there was no denying he was wide awake and probably already getting down to business.<p>

Rolling over, Daisy stared up at the ceiling. Matt had stuck glow-in-the-dark stars up on the ceiling. For a moment, she wanted her astronomy-obsessed friend with her because she had a nagging feeling that the stars were arranged in consolations. For all of his quietness and awkwardness, Matt seemed extremely intelligent.

It wasn't until the front door slammed and little clattering sounds continued in the kitchen that Daisy dared to rise from the bed and shuffle out to the real world.

Matt glanced up from the kitchen sink, his goggles perched on the top of his head.

Daisy nodded to him in greeting and sat down, laying her head on her crossed arms.

A small _tink,_ rang out as Matt placed a cup of coffee in front of her.

"Thank you," she smiled, as she grabbed the little cup of heaven and took a long, deep sip. It didn't even bother her that the liquid scalded her tongue, her throat, her stomach. Slowly, she could feel her soul returning to her body.

"How did you get the shiner?"

The sudden question startled her and she realized that Matt was sitting right across from her – a coffee cup of his own in his hands. He had pulled his goggles down and Daisy didn't like that she couldn't see his face completely. But his words seemed merely curious, with no malice whatsoever. However, Daisy really didn't want to tell the dude that it was his friend or business associate or whatever who had hit her. She did it anyways.

"Mello hit me," she stated emotionlessly.

With much effort, she kept herself from reaching up to touch the blotched skin. It was no surprise he had noticed the bruise – her makeup could barely cover it and the cover-up had probably been wiped clean as she slept.

Matt blew on his coffee. "Yeah," he mumbled. "Mello does that sometimes. But you really must have pissed him off if he didn't stop at just one punch."

This time her hand did find its way up to her face to cradle her jaw in her palm – that bruise she had actually managed to cover completely. Maybe those goggles gave Matt x-ray vision if it was possible for him to see it from that distance.

"No," she admitted. "That was from someone else."

Taking a sip, Matt studied her just a smidge closer, "Mello doesn't typically let someone mess with anything of his."

"Well, the guy got shot and killed for his trouble," she explained. "I don't know why though… Mello is nothing except cruel to me. I didn't think he cared enough to waste a bullet on the guy."

"Mello is cruel to everyone," he said. "Don't think you'll ever be the exception."

Daisy nodded, and turned her attention to the cup of coffee in front of her. Something suddenly occurred to her and she lifted her gaze to the goggled-man. "You've known him for a while," she stated.

"You didn't phrase that like a question."

"It's not a question."

"Why would you think that?"

"He's more relaxed around you than I've ever seen him around his mafia underlings."

"Yes, we grew up together."

"Oh," Daisy glanced down and swirled her coffee for a few seconds. Then she glanced back up and asked, "Has he always been like that?"

Matt didn't need any further description – they both knew what she meant. "Yes," he replied simply.

"Does he have any redeeming qualities?"

"Some."

"Such as?"

He paused, and let his eyes drift to the ceiling. "If he thinks you're doing something wrong, he'll correct it. He'll tell you it's because watching you be so pathetic just annoys him when really he feels bad when he sees you struggling. If you're hurt, he'll help. He'll tell you that you're useless to him injured or compromised but really he doesn't want to see you suffer. If you are attacked, he'll come to your defense. He'll say you're his possession and nobody fucks with his possessions but really, it pisses him off when someone attacks the truly defenseless. He's also pretty damn religious and some people find that to be a redeeming quality. Overall though, he's a pretty big fucking asshole with the worst taste in fashion ever."

Daisy remained silent for a moment…

"This is going to sound really pathetic," she began. "But when I was being attacked… I didn't really want help – I mean, from just anybody. I wanted someone to save me… but my first reaction was to call for Mello. I don't know why. I thought maybe subconsciously I knew that he would be possessive and help me because I was _his_ whore. Then I thought it was some form of Stockholm syndrome. But really, I believe somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that he wouldn't leave me to be raped. He's a snobby bastard and has no problem ignoring, belittling and hitting women, but somehow I just knew that he wouldn't let what was happening continue. For whatever reason – whatever motive. He would have stepped in and saved me. Maybe he's a kinda nice guy, after all." Daisy paused for a moment. "A nice guy in a really fucked up way."

Matt shrugged, "Anything involving Mello is bound to be fucked up."

"Yeah, I've come to realize that," she gave a lighthearted laugh.

The door banged open and Daisy gave a startled yelp – spilling the coffee onto the table and part of her miniskirt. Patting the forming stain to help it come out later, she noted that Matt hadn't even blinked as Mello stormed into the room, dropping a duffle bag by the couch and munching on a chocolate bar. Mello didn't seem any more angry than he normally seemed, and so Daisy figured that he hadn't heard any part of that lovely conversation she and Matt had just had.

Around the chocolate in his mouth, Mello proclaimed, "We're leaving."

* * *

><p>Within two hours, they were back on a plane. Within twelve hours they were leaving the airport. Within thirteen (lucky thirteen) hours they were back at the compound. Within thirty-seven hours Daisy woke up alone for the second day in a row.<p>

Mumbling to herself, she rolled over and was (pleasantly) surprised to find that Mello was gone. In that instant, she almost snuggled closer into the soft sheets and went back to sleep – but something caught her eye… and then her other eye… and then the very breath from her throat in one swift gasp.

Perched on Mello's abandoned pillow was a chocolate bar on top of a book.

Sitting up, Daisy slid over to the pillow and lifted the chocolate bar from the book, turning it over in her hands. It was the same brand that Mello always ate, and there was nothing written on it – nothing like his name in big bold letters telling her not to eat it. But it wasn't until she picked up the book that had been left underneath it that she affirmed the fact that these where gifts – the book was an English copy of the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Later that day when Mello returned, Daisy was melting a piece of the chocolate in her mouth – savoring the taste as she read her book. Mello paused, watching her eyes slowly drift over each word, each sentence, back and forth and back and forth.

She suddenly glanced up and swallowed the chocolate melting in her mouth in one quick gulp – finally noticing his presence. Mello immediately snapped out of his trance and swiftly went about his business, collecting his laptop and two more chocolate bars from his stash.

Two steps away from the door, a timid voice stopped him.

"Thank you," Daisy said, sincerely.

Mello glanced back at her, "It got you to shut up, didn't it?"

He was out the door before he had a chance to witness the small smirk that drifted across Daisy's face as she lifted the book back up the eye-level and broke off another piece of chocolate.


End file.
